Schools excel in teaching students one form of leadership, but struggle massively to teach another:
Schools can teach excellence in playing the game that exists; they do less well teaching to design a better game.
This reflection explores what I did and did not learn about leadership as a student. Next week, I’ll explore how my experience as a teacher provided a radically different and more meaningful perspective on leadership.
Getting Along
Little kids are adorable… until they’re not.
As a parent of two young kids, I’m routinely reminded that the primary instructional objectives in early life are social and emotional - not academic or technical. It’s totally fine when my daughter can’t yet decode a word, or my son isn’t yet potty trained - but tantrums and wild outbursts are far more frustrating.
We need our kids to be able to manage their emotions and their interpersonal behaviors first, and that sets the stage for all other learning to come.
Schools know this. Take a look at the curriculum or report card of a typical preschool or kindergarten: the majority of standards are about how well a student handles their mind, body, and emotions, in a social context.
The few memories I have of elementary school revolve around my friends and peers, and retain salience because of some strong emotional experience. I can conjure flashes of nervousness going into new social situations and joy during holiday celebrations.
Since I naturally like to get along with others, the behavioral expectations of school in early childhood came easily to me. I excelled at getting along so much in fact that my mom likes to recount that I had a teacher appoint me the class diplomat to help resolve disputes between other kids.
In summary, schools’ first leadership training entailed: follow the rules and help others do the same. Thus began a process of excelling at conformity.
Getting the “A”
Moving through grades, the focus of instruction gradually shifts towards academic subjects… where success is measured individual by individual.
The result is we spend years focused on leading ourselves to hit targets. 🎯
I had a built-in advantage as school progressed towards greater focus on academics: an insatiable curiosity, and an enduring attention span.
When subject matter or instructional delivery lacked verve, the reward structures of grades and recognition - stickers for reading books, extra credit, “student of the week” (to name a few) - offered sufficient reinforcement to continue playing the game of school.
As I’ve written about in recent weeks on the topics of food and sleep, the origins of leadership generally start with leading oneself to boost performance and accomplish some goal.
School provided an endless whack-a-mole of goals to hit. 🐹
And boy, did I hit goals. Between 2nd-8th grade, I built the capacity to be attentive in class, complete my homework, and study for exams. I led myself minute by minute, hour by hour, and these behaviors propelled me to attend a competitive prep school for high school.
But for me school fostered very little peer leadership in those years. Even the opportunity to excel as a team - through sports or performing arts - I treated as a secondary priority. These “extra-curricular” activities were more enjoyable for their playfulness than for their competitiveness, and the incentives of trophies, medals, and belt colors never inspired me to go the extra mile to be the best in the game.
All these games felt contrived to me. If I couldn’t see the inherent meaning, I’d go along grudgingly. I might play the game, but I wouldn’t win the championship.
Eventually I found new inspiration from a trend within academics and service learning that questioned the status quo and encouraged me to rock the boat.
School pointed me toward what I’d come to consider purposeful work, focused on problem-solving.
Getting Perspective
As much as school teaches students to follow the script, stick with the program, and achieve according to a predetermined standard, sometimes the institution offers something else - a perspective on how and why to change the structure itself.
Through diverse reading in high school I expanded my perspective on the lived experiences of different people in the US and around the world. I examined data about how our society has worked over time and I contended with how that might affect my life and the lives of others.
I benefited from passionate teachers who assigned demanding texts and asked me to read and think critically. My history teachers in particular went above and beyond the sanitized textbook accounts of slavery, genocide, war, and economic systems, pushing us to examine and understand these topics on a deeper level.
My studies examined not only systems, but also individuals. I learned about pioneering leaders in industry, government, and social movements, and their actions to challenge the status quo. The profiles of these leaders included generals and presidents of course, but also lesser known leaders in science, labor, community organizing, and the arts.
None of these discoveries set me up to effectively lead for change.
But they did help me to believe in change and that I might contribute to some of it.
Getting (A Little) Practice
In high school I had some friends who did service work in food kitchens and homeless shelters.
For some reason, I didn’t join them. I wish I had.
Instead, the practice I did get in high school with change leadership was simulated. Beginning in my junior year, I participated in Model Congress - twice at Princeton, and once at Harvard. In my senior year, I took home prizes for my (fake) leadership at both conferences.
At Princeton, I introduced a bill to research disposing of nuclear waste in outer space(?!) 🚀🤯
At Harvard, I passed a bill for slavery reparations through committee and the full Senate vote. (I also accomplished this while playing a very liberal version of Senator Joe Biden.)
My name tag from HMC 2002, playing the “other Joe.”
These experiences gave me a taste for how to architect and advance change at the policy level.
At Haverford, I immersed myself in the methods of change embraced by Quakers, who founded the school and left a powerful legacy of leadership education.
With rigorous academics, Haverford produces many thoughtful and disciplined scholars. For me, Haverford provided a learning experience that spanned far beyond the classroom and formal syllabi.
First, the school’s commitment to student “self governance” created significant opportunities to engage in and take ownership around community issues. Thanks to this, I eagerly attended plenary, debated the Honor Code, served on Student Council, and threw a lot of parties.
Second, the school’s commitment to service and citizenship launched me into extracurriculars with intense energy. I led the College Democrats during the 2004 presidential election and worked in North Philadelphia’s Empowerment Zone on revitalizing a blighted economy. These experiences got me off campus and finally working hands on to problem-solving and enact change.
In my senior year, Haverford’s Center for Peace and Global Citizenship supported me in taking this interest in change abroad. Combining research, service, and activism, I spent six weeks in Venezuela partnering with local organizers seeking to navigate an ambitious, if troubled, political revolution.
In retrospect, none of my work during these years led to lasting change in the community - all of it washed away like a teacher’s notes on a whiteboard.
However, these experience practicing leadership - albeit brief and supervised - left me with lasting lessons I could take far beyond the four walls of the classroom.
Getting Real
Nothing in my experience as a student, from kindergarten through college, taught me how to understand, let alone to be, a “Timeless Leader”.
I got parts of the playbook, but not the whole thing.
It would take me leaving my occupation as a full time student and many years of real world experience to comprehend the vast and unyielding demands of leadership in the modern world.
Next week, I’ll outline some of the ways my experience teaching complemented what I learned about leadership as a student, giving me my first blueprint of effective leadership.
If school taught me about personal effectiveness and provided a worldly vision, teaching taught me about persistence, empathy, and essential best practices for strategy.
Until next week, you might reflect on your own schooling and how it influenced your leadership learning journey. You might consider these questions:
How did school teach you to play by the rules - and win?
How did school teach you to challenge, break, and/or change the rules?
What do you wish school had taught you about leadership? Why?
If you are willing, please share these reflections in a comment or email me directly.
Definitely resonate with the idea of school teaching us how to play the game and how I'd optimized for that myself as well for most of my schooling life, even into university.
I think inherently, there will always be limitations to education and its ability to 'teach' something that must be learnt through trial-by-fire.
I guess I wonder if it's possible to teach some of the foundational ingredients, emotional processing, how to cultivate self awareness, and thus relationships with others and yourself, understanding what drives you and what purpose can look like (exemplars, examples) for others, and then getting to puzzle together what it looks like for you. And then make explicit doing so, and different modes of doing so and engaging? I wouldn't have worked for long in the sector as I have if I didn't think that it was possible, but I also think creating scenarios or situations with real stakes is incredibly important to unlock motivation, engagement and experience in doing something that matters.